I began to lift my hand to take up the ingenious fountain pen on the desk. Barely had I twitched it than a thin chain burst from the arm of the chair and snapped around my wrist, dragging it back down. Raising my brows I looked at him, completely not amused.

“Now is not the time. I have forty essays still to get through, each on a varying subject.”

“You should give up this occupation,” he snarled, waving his hand around the room roughly. “This life. You're a god, not a … teacher.”

I tightened my jaw, narrowing my eyes at him. Breathing in slowly I focused dark energy of the void around my wrist, letting it trickle out of my palm, directing it towards the chains there. With a push of force I caused impact, and sudden, eerily calm, bell-chimes of metal sang out as the chain was shattered. There was a sharp intake of breath as I lifted my hand and did not look back at him. Slowly I flexed my fingers, nodding once, and reached for my pen.

This time I was able to take a hold of it, without retaliation.

“We're not gods,” I responded quietly, “We never were. You just wanted to always be one. We cannot create life, we are not omnipotent.”

“We are close to gods as you get,” he spat, anger in his tone.

I shook my head slowly as I leant forwards, eyes skirting over the first pages. “No, Morn. There are those far stronger. We may have existed since the beginning of time, but we are not powerful as they are.”

“You mean you are not as powerful as I am,” Morningstar seethed. “You know I can make those chains stronger. I can make you weaker.”

I was perfectly aware. He held my power in hostage, for when I had succeeded in at least partially completing my side of our bargain. Looking over the first page I took a moment to read the first few lines. It was an essay on the student's chosen question of how the early worship of Ama’leh influenced ancient architecture. The student in question was also studying construction and according to her lecturers in that subject highly skilled in the theoretical side of the technology involved. Personally, I was highly interested in this essay and what delights it might hold, and as I read the first paragraph my heart began to race with excitement.

I could, however, feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull. After I finished the short introduction I let out a groaning sigh and placed the pen down to sit back, glaring at him.

“What?”

“Why are you working? Our deal was for you to go and 'save the world’. In my name. You should have given up this stupid occupation and devoted yourself full time to-”

“What? Making you look good?” I threw an exasperated hand at him.

He looked perfectly serious and nodded sharply. “As you agreed to. I have half a mind to shove you in that cell as you suggested, it would be better use to me than watching you teach.”

“I never asked you to come here,” I replied, tersely, “I did not invite you to my lectures, nor into my office. Unfortunately, as I have a normal life now, and the need to pass as something akin to a mortal, and so I have a job. That I like. Now I am working on my research for your project, which I can show you if you really want. But for now-”

But he was standing suddenly still, and his eyes were blazing with white brightness. A smile flickered across his face, and I felt exotic desire ooze from him. His dark chocolate hair seemed to dance as he drew himself taller, and the smile extended into a grin. It was a picture that was saying far cry from the mighty warrior who had waged war against ancient deities, but it was still my power-hungry younger brother. I fancied myself one of the oldest, having stepped from Khaos long before many of them.

The reaction was clearly an affirmative. Grunting, I stood, and grabbed the satchel from by my desk. Morningstar watching with silent eagerness as I stuffed the papers into a pouch, then into the satchel. The pen I left for it was not entirely necessary as I had many the place we would now proceed to - my home. He stepped towards me as I moved from around behind the desk, as I reached for the door.

“This better be worth it, Char,” he stated. “I have other things I could be doing … you could be doing.”

“As I have made very clear,” I scowled at him, “I am not giving you fealty. Not now, not-”

And I pulled open the door.

Then stopped, stunned. Outside it a young woman was paused, wide eyes staring. By the way she was frozen solid and the way her hands dug into the strap of the back, it was clear she had been there for some time. Eyes wide and mouth parted she stared at me as I realised who she was and that there was no way to immediately understand how much she had heard.

“Miss Ayna …” I said awkwardly.

For it was one of my most familiar, high achieving students.